Leave, O my soul (Thomas Tomkins)

From ChoralWiki
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Music files

L E G E N D Disclaimer How to download
ICON SOURCE
Icon_pdf.gif Pdf
Icon_snd.gif Midi
MusicXML.png MusicXML
File details.gif File details
Question.gif Help
  • (Posted 2016-08-26)  CPDL #40910:       
Editor: Ross Jallo (submitted 2016-08-26).   Score information: Letter, 19 pages, 347 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: Original key and note values; editorial accidentals added. (For ease of use, the editorial accidentals in the organ part are not distinguished as such.)

General Information

Title: Leave, O my soul
Composer: Thomas Tomkins
Lyricist: Joseph Hall

Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: ATTBB
Genre: SacredVerse anthem

Language: English
Instruments: Organ

First published: 1668 in Musica Deo sacra, no. 31
Description: This verse anthem for four soloists (MMTB) and five-part choir (MTTBarB) is a setting of a poem by Joseph Hall, then-Dean of Worcester.

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Leave, O my soul, this baser world below;
O leave this doleful dungeön of woe,
and soar aloft to that supernal rest
which maketh all the saints and angels blest:
Lo, there the Godhead's radiant throne,
like to ten thousand suns in one.

Lo, there thy Saviour dear in glory dight,
adored of all the powers of heaven bright.
Lo, there that head that bled with thorny wound
shines ever with celestial glory crowned;
that hand that held the scornful reed
makes all the fiends infernal dread.

That back and side that ran with bloody streams
daunt angels' eyes with their majestic beams.
Those feet, once fastened to the cursed tree,
trample on death and hell, in glorious glee.
Those lips, once drenched with gall, do make
with their dread doom the world to quake.

Behold those joys thou never canst behold,
those precious gates of pearls, those streets of gold,
those streams of life, those trees of Paradise
that never can be seen by mortal eyes:
And when thou seest this state divine,
think that it is, or shall be, thine.

See there the happy troops of purest sprights
that live above in endless true delights:
and see where once thy self must ranged be,
and look and long for immortality.
And now beforehand help to sing
Allelujahs to heaven's King.